Wingate held the instrument away for a moment.
"You will have your breakfast," he promised, "immediately the reply comes."
"A quarter of an hour?" Rees went on. "Nonsense! Try and do it in five minutes.—Yes, our whole stock. When you've got the message through, ring us up.—Where are we? Why, at Lord Dredlinton's house. Don't be longer than you can help. Put a different person on each line.—What's that?"
Rees turned his head.
"He wants to know again," he said, "how much to sell. Let me say half our stock. That will be sufficient to ruin us. It will bring the price of that damned loaf of yours—"
"The whole stock," Wingate interrupted, "every bushel."
"Sell the whole stock," Rees repeated wearily.
Wingate replaced the telephone upon a distant table. Then he mixed a little brandy and water in two glasses, broke off a piece of bread, set it before the two men and rang the bell. It was answered in an incredibly short space of time.
"Grant," he directed, "bring in the breakfast trays in ten minutes."
The man disappeared as silently as he had come. Wingate cut the knots and released the hands of his two prisoners. Their fingers were numb and helpless, however. Rees picked up the bread with his teeth from the table. Phipps tried but failed. Wingate held the tumbler of brandy and water once more to his lips.